


Hand

by skargasm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, LJ Prompt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little look into Stiles’ thoughts…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand

Derek’s hands are a source of constant fascination. They are broad in the palm, always appearing at least lightly tanned which speaks to Derek’s mixed heritage. The fingers are long and although not as slender as his, not as thick as perhaps might be expected. The skin is soft, no calluses marring the flesh at all—a side effect of the wolf no doubt. His mount of Venus is plump, something which makes Stiles smirk and tease him relentlessly, saying it should have been a clue to the hidden intense libido. 

It is always a slight shock when one of those hands comes to rest against his lower belly. They are much the same height now—in fact, Stiles is slightly taller—but that hands covers practically his entire lower stomach, holding him firmly but gently. Stiles likes to think of it as an apotropaic—a safeguard, a tangible reminder that he will always keep Stiles safe. Whether it is to pull him backwards away from trouble, or to hold him steady. 

When they told the Sheriff about the two of them, they stood just like this. The broad chest resting against his back, one hand resting against his belly; the slow, steady breaths rising and falling behind him as they faced him together. Of course, revealing the existence of werewolves, kanimas, and alpha packs had been a difficult conversation, made more fraught by the fact that it happened in Stiles’ hospital room—his father angry and pacing; the pack battered, bruised, bleeding but triumphant. They were finally able to tell their parents everything because things were safe—if only for a short time. Telling him that they were together had been intense—the Sheriff was obsessed with Stiles’ safety, with everything that he had missed because he had believed lies and refused to acknowledge the truth of what he could see. He had been vehement in his unhappiness—he didn’t want Stiles smack bang in the middle of the supernatural shitstorms that were a constant threat, something that he would never get away from if they were together. Especially if he was the Alpha’s mate, acknowledged by all as the secondary head of the pack. 

It had hurt, seeing how his father felt but being unable to do what he wanted. More than anything he wanted to get rid of the look of disappointment, confusion that had become what it seemed he always saw on his father’s face now. But he simply couldn’t. There was no part of him that could envisage a life without Derek and he couldn’t deny that in order to pacify his father. It had helped that it was plain to see the feelings were more than reciprocated—it was completely obvious to _everyone_ that Derek would step in front of a train for Stiles with no hesitation – after all, a bullet was nothing to an Alpha werewolf.

It took numerous dinners and lunches to get past the sheriff’s animosity—it didn’t help that more and more of the danger that Stiles had experienced since Derek entered his life came to light due to a relaxing of their guard—Derek wasn’t to know just how heavily edited the version of events Stiles had told his father. But still, they persevered and the Sunday he entered the living room and found his father and his lover slumped in front of the game on TV, muttering at each other about the uselessness of certain players that he could finally relax—could see that things were going to be alright.

And throughout it all, whenever he needed reassurance, something he could hold onto to tell him that this life he was leading wasn’t a dream or a nightmare, those hands were there. Always there. 

And knowing how Derek felt about him, knowing that a love like this didn’t happen every day, that he had found someone willing to die for him, live for him, make his life complete—well, asking for that hand in marriage seemed like the least he could do.

* * *

fin

* * *


End file.
